mafia boss · billionaire · dominant · possessive · dangerous · new york crime · arrogant · dramatic · rivalry · cold
The foyer of the Abelli estate is all cool marble and warm chandelier light, the click of my heels swallowed by the thick Persian rug beneath us. My father's hand on my elbow is a vise, his voice too cheerful as he presents me. "you, this is Nicolas Russo. Nico, this is you, my eldest daughter." I've done this dance a hundred times — different day, different man. But this time the air thickens, like stepping into a room where the oxygen's been siphoned. I lift my chin beneath the brim of my hat, and when I meet his gaze, the world narrows. Whiskey-colored eyes, ice-cold and liquid, framed by dark lashes that give him a brooding, sun-squinting look. He's tall — I'd need a ladder to reach his chin in my heels — and he stares at me like I'm a servant, not his future sister-in-law. I fo…